


The Incident At The Lake

by bennyslegs



Series: Fawnlock RP!~ [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennyslegs/pseuds/bennyslegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with the weather being lovely, and John having the idea to go to the lake, and taking a certain Fawn with him. And depending on how you look at it, it was either a disaster, or an achievement. Either way, it ends it cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Incident At The Lake

**Author's Note:**

> HA! me and krista thought this would be short. but these babies seem to control us, and so this came to be. there's a little bit of intimacy here, nothing intense. some snuggles, a few tender kisses. nothing sexual.  
> fawnlock doesn't age like a human, he was a teenager when he met john, and is somewhere between the teenage / young adult stage right now. if i were to give him an age, i'd say 19. 
> 
> also, i may have said this already but incase i haven't, yes, we're making this up as we go along! we talk about a few things, but generally our replies are suprises to each other, and so we react accordingly. so it might seem a little bit disjointed (going from happiness to anger, etc) but i think we handled it well. they're both quite fragile babes, especially john, so i hope it works well! krista is a brilliant john! she starts this one, this time!
> 
> anyway, enough yapping from me, onwards!

It was hot today, not the kind of hot that could bring your mood to disdain or discomfort, but genuinely nice weather. There was a nice breeze that swept through the trees in the woods and you could hear the happy chirpings of small birds in the background. John stepped outside, looking up as the sunlight’s beams drifted through the small openings in the trees just above his head.  
“Beautiful day today, don’t you think?” He looked over at the Fawn inside and smiled. “I think it’s finally nice enough to go to the lake for a swim. You want to come with me?”  
He stepped back inside, leaving the back door open behind him.

~~~

Fawnlock had been happily poking a worm whilst John was talking, studying it's reflexes and movements. He wasn't ignoring John on purpose, this was just important right now and John understood. It wasn't until he heard the words 'lake' and 'swim' did his ears perk up, worm now definitely boring.  
“Lake?” Fawnlock replied, voice rough from not being used much today. He'd grasped a few words so far, and could make a few short sentences – but mainly he stuck to single words. He liked to tell himself it saved time, but John knew he was expecting himself to learn faster than he could. He was learning extremely fast though, so John didn't say anything. He was awfully proud.

~~~

“Yes, the lake.” He headed over to the sink and turned the faucet on, letting the water gather up in his hands and sweeping it up to splash it on his face. He let out a sigh of relief, the heat swept away from his face from the cold contact of the water. “I think it would be refreshing. Go for a good swim and you’ll get to wander around the forest for a while.”

~~~

John turned around to an empty cottage. Fawnlock was already out the door, there was absolutely no time to lose. Not only would Fawnlock get to dip into the lovely cold lake and cool himself off a bit, he'd get to see John in a situation he'd never seen him in before, and John was anything but boring. Quite the opposite, infact. Sometimes things caught Fawnlock's attention more, but he was fascinating in his own way, and so very human that Fawnlock found himself cataloguing every reaction, every expression, every movement. If his brain were a book, the John chapter would be long and currently unfinished. He wasn't unhappy about that at all.

Fawnlock hadn't even realised he'd been running to the lake until he turned around and couldn't see the cottage anymore. His stomach dropped a little, not because he was afraid of being alone, but because John was now alone and nowhere to be seen. The furthest they'd been apart so far since meeting was last week, when Fawnlock was having a strop and refused to come down from the nearest tree to the cottage. He'd stayed up there all night on principle, and though it was the longest they'd been apart, Fawnlock knew John was close, knew he was safe. Now he wasn't. He pawed the ground uncomfortably with his toes, finding small comfort in the wet dirt. 

He felt like something was missing, and he'd never felt it before – like he'd forgotten something big, like only half of him was there, standing by the lake. Lost in his thoughts about what this could mean, he jumped to attention at the sound of huffing and puffing coming from the trees ahead. His John was here! 

~~~

John trotted after the fawn, trying his hardest to catch up. He really never got to see Fawnlock run at his full potential; today just so happened to be the day he got to see how fast the little guy was. Once he was far enough to see Fawnlock in the distance, he stopped to catch his breath; sucking in as much air as he possibly could get.  
“Damn, you… are really fast, you know that?” He stood there a few good minutes more, catching his breath before continuing on towards the creature. “You really should know better than to run through the forest like that. What if you went and hurt yourself? Would I be able to find you?” His expression wasn’t pleased, and Fawnlock could tell that John was upset with him. John sighed, running his hands through his hair all the while breathing softly through his mouth. Still a bit aired back, but he looked fine.  
“Look Fawnlock, I know you are excited, but don’t go doing that again, alright? I can’t run as fast as you can. I’m not as energetic as I used to be when I was… well, your age.” Fawnlock wasn’t too big, but he wasn’t a kid either. John just assumed he was in the middle of childhood and adulthood; which was typically his explanation as to why he was so troublesome all the time. “Do you understand me? Don’t go pulling that again, you hear?”

~~~

Now John was back in his sights, Fawnlock felt much better. His excitement was returning and he found it hard not to grin and bounce on the balls of his feet. He knew John was telling him off, he could only understand a few words but could tell by his posture and expression. He also knew he ought to listen. But he couldn't concentrate. They were so close. The lake was just there and Fawnlock's skin was tingling with the anticipation of being soothed, so soon. With a look through his lashes, he tried his best to look dreadfully sorry. It usually worked.

~~~

John tried to keep stern, but the look on the creatures face made him give in. Why was it that he was so good at that? He sighed willingly and ran his fingers alongside the back of the fawn’s ear; letting him know it was alright and he wasn’t angry.  
“Alright, fine. Have it your way.” He chuckled, moving past him and leading him towards the lake. The sun had made the lake glow with its reflection; small movements in the lake causing small waves to form and show off the glistening. It was an open area, full of small pebbles and stones and small patches of tall grass. All around them, they could hear the chanting and singing of the birds in the woods. It was peaceful; almost like a dream. He grabbed the ends of his shirt, pulling it off him swiftly and doing the same with his pants. He now stood there, nothing on him besides his underwear. He was tanned, but not perfectly in every area. It was from working all day outside with lots of clothes on. Some patches of skin were lighter than the other; some dark, but it didn’t make him unflattering. A scar was planted near his shoulder; from where, Fawnlock had no clue. He charged for the lake; the cool water splashing against him as he disturbed its stillness. It was the perfect temperature and he was glad he decided to come out here. He seeped down lower into the water until he was about shoulder length in. He let the water hit against him gently as he looked up towards the sky. He felt amazing.  
“Hey! Fawnlock! Don’t just stand there! The water’s great!” He then dived his head down into the water, his breath held in as he swam farther into the lake.

~~~

Fawnlock had to take a few moments to process what just happened. First, he'd been having his ears stroked, (which was in his top favourite things to ever happen) then suddenly: skin, and lots of it, all different shades and skin stretched over muscle stretched across bone, soft pale fur on a soft belly, but strong legs and arms – scars, (what from? The urge to count them was strong) the biggest, just under the collarbone on the left side, (who'd dared? Anger flaring) and then as quick as it was infront of him, it was gone, as if it hadn't existed at all – a test to see how much Fawnlock could remember in such short notice, and he cursed because he felt cheated – the more he thought about it the more he couldn't remember what he'd seen, and he needed to see more.  
The sudden urge to impress John was great, and without thinking, Fawnlock copied and ran full speed towards the lake. Long legs a great advantage here, he launched himself into the air, creating an all mighty splash when he collided with the water. It wasn't until he was fully submerged that he remembered it had been a while since he'd swam, a while being atleast a few years, and of course he was a genius – he didn't forget things like how to swim, but his legs wouldn't kick and his arms lay motionless and his heart rate sped up – his mind was more John and less Swim, and his arms seemed to suddenly reach out then, as if searching for John in the water on their own accord, and Fawnlock was hit with how ridiculous this all was, and how he was powerless against it, really, this need to be completed, to latch onto John. It wasn't boring and that was all he'd ever wanted wasn't it, to not be bored, his heart beating frantically against his ribs wasn't boring, and waiting for John to do something wasn't boring. Fawnlock grinned under the water, today was definitely going to be a day of scolding. He loved the scolding.

~~~

John felt the water move vividly around him. Fawnlock must have jumped in. John brought himself back up to the surface, gasping for air as he looked around for the Fawn’s head. There was just the gleaming water and the surface stilling once more. Maybe he was still down underneath? He kept himself afloat for a few seconds or so before diving back down to go search for him. John knew it had only been a little while since Fawnlock jumped in, but he couldn’t help but worry. When he spotted the fawn, he was still underwater reaching out to nothing; almost like he was waiting for someone to take him up in his arms. John could feel his heart pound harshly against his chest. What in hell was he thinking? Did he forget how to use his legs? He wasn’t making any movements indicating he was going to swim back up. John swam towards him, latching onto him and swimming upwards until they hit the top of the water. John gasped for air, holding on tightly to the creature to make sure he was with him and that he was alright. When he caught his breath, he held on more tightly, feeling the anger swarm up into him.  
“Idiot! Are you insane?! Do you have some kind of death wish?!” His heart was racing. He had lost so many friends back then when he was in Afghanistan; feeling these kinds of emotions rushing back into him were too painful. “What were you doing down there?! If you did that little stunt just so I could go get you, you’re mad, you hear me?! Mad! This passes everything, Fawnlock! This passes antlering me, destroying my clothes and even breaking my plates! This passes everything bad you’ve ever done to me, you hear?! Don’t you ever go doing that again!”  
After he let his anger out, John’s heartbeat stilled back into a steady beat and the anger within him had dulled. John still kept his arms around the other, keeping both of them afloat as minutes went by. Suddenly he didn’t feel the need to swim anymore. He sighed, planting his forehead in the crook of the fawn’s neck.  
“We should have stayed home.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”

~~~

Fawnlock took a deep shuddering breath, trying to pinpoint exactly when he'd lost his mind, and why. His heart was still beating against his chest like a butterfly in a jar, but it was oddly soothing to feel John's beating just as fast, their chests as close as possible. He'd never held someone like this, never felt another persons chest against his, never been this close to someone else. Except perhaps his mother, years ago, or maybe even Moosecroft - but those memories we're long gone. No need to try and remember them now, he needed to think about the shaking human in his arms who was frightened because of him and he didn't feel guilty often, it was a useless feeling, really, but this must have been the worst he'd ever felt it. He thought hard of what to do to fix this as fast as possible.  
Holding one arm tight around John's shoulders, he brought his other arm up out the water. He pulled his fingers gently through John's damp hair at the back of his neck, in what he hoped was soothing – he'd never done it himself, but John had done it to him, it worked every time – and was rewarded with a sigh and a tightening of John's arms around his ribs. His heart soared, and suddenly things were okay-

And yes, there it was. The reason he'd lost his mind. The human who'd walked into his life, (John would argue that the opposite happened, but John was rarely right.) The soft but strong human, who'd taken care of him when he'd needed – who now needed to be cared for. And Fawnlock found himself, for the first time in his life, wanting nothing more than to do just that. He'd never been the mothering kind, (John quite obviously was) but perhaps that's why it worked. They complimented each other. And right now, John needed the mothering. And so Fawnlock would mother.  
He tugged at Johns hair lightly, as if to say without words, 'look at me now' and John did, eyes red rimmed but no tears in sight. That hit Fawnlock like a rock to the chest, and he didn't even have to think twice before leaning down and pressing his lips softly to John's.  
He wasn't even quite sure why he'd done it, except that John's lips had been there and his were present, too, and it seemed like the right thing to do. He just wanted to let him know that everything was fine, it was all fine, and he was sorry, and he didn't know how to say it yet, maybe soon, but for now this would have to do. Before John had time to react, Fawnlock had moved away, had spun around in the water, hands groping for thighs to urge them to wrap around him. As John did so, Fawnlock started swimming (finally, he remembered. Maybe kisses were good for the memory) with John on his back.  
Getting to the bank of the lake, John seemed sluggish against Fawnlock's back. Fawnlock supposed the fright had taken it out of him, his strong brave John who shouted in the night, who held his wrist a little too tight after waking. There was a story there, but it was a story for another day. A day where Fawnlock could understand every word, categorize every facial expression. Laying John on the bank (who seemed to be perfectly happy with being in the mud, which was very out of character and Fawnlock tried to not let it worry him) he hooked an arm under John's knees and around his shoulders. Heaving him up, he walked slowly but steadily back to the cottage, with John nestled close to his chest. He was bigger than he was when they'd met, (he had a few inches on John now) and he was grateful – He'd never have been able to do this a few months ago. 

~~~

John couldn’t tell how he felt. Everything seemed scattered; his thoughts, his feelings. Was he mad still? No, that had passed already. His lips were heated and felt dry and his heart was still pounding hard against his chest. Fawnlock had kissed him. He had kissed Fawnlock. Shouldn’t he feel disgusted? Angry? Why wasn’t he feeling the way he thought he would react? He was being lifted up now. He felt so weak and woozy. When yelling at the fawn, all he could think about were memories; memories of people he loved who passed away and being alone when they were gone. Alone; how he felt for the longest time up until now. Up until he met Fawnlock.  
Both of them were completely drenched with water and the breezes dancing their way through the trees brought a chill up his spine. He was cold and wished he had his clothes. He leaned into the fawn’s chest, gaining bits of warmth here and there from body contact. He was so warm. Was he even cold? He closed his eyes, feeling secure in the other’s arms. He never needed anyone’s support. He never had the need to be comforted by anyone. He’s been alone all this time, he never really knew the feeling of having someone there to love you- to protect you. It was always him protecting people.  
Suddenly it was warm and the feeling of cloth against his skin brought him back to opening up his eyes. They were home and Fawnlock was wiping him dry; just like he did for him a few months ago. The tables had turned for a change; he was the one being taken care of. He smiled, reaching out and rubbing gently behind one of the fawn’s ears. John pulled the creature forward, making sure that Fawnlock could see his face and was close enough for contact. He probably was going to regret this later, but he didn’t care. He leaned forward and gave his lips a soft peck; pulling away seconds later and declaring it was bed time.  
After he dressed into something warm and locked up the windows and doors, he finally turned to Fawnlock and called him over; finding that while he dressed, the fawn took the liberty of drying himself off.  
“Look, whatever happened back there at the lake… I don’t want it to change our relationship, alright? You’ve changed my life these past months. You’ve made my life… pretty much better than I ever expected it to be when I came here.” He sighed, feeling a lump in his throat. “I just want to say I don’t want to lose you. I would be crushed if I lost you. I would have been crushed tonight if you died down at the lake. Just know you have a special place here and that your life actually matters to me.”  
He smiled, feeling a bit uncomfortable telling his feelings to someone who probably doesn’t understand to well. He reached over and grabbed the creature’s hand, clenching it tightly and hoping he’d just get it there.  
“Um, look. You probably don’t understand now, but I hope that maybe someday you’ll get it, but when I say you matter a whole lot to me, I meant, well… that I love you. So, there.”

~~~

Fawnlock watched intently, nodding at the parts he thought he ought to nod. John was obviously saying very important things, and anything that made him feel better right now, Fawnlock would listen to. He recognised odd words here and there. He'd heard 'life', 'crushed', 'lake' and 'special'. Lake he knew of course, life he knew – he had a life, John had a life – but 'crushed' and 'special' were new to him. He didn't know what they meant, but the emphasis John put on them as he said them implied they were the most important of all the words, so Fawnlock clung to them. Especially the last. 

'Special.' 

The look in John's eyes as he'd said that word hinted things Fawnlock could only guess at, which was infuriating, but challenging – and he enjoyed a good challenge. It must be a good thing, John had clenched his hand right after he'd said it. Perhaps he was calling Fawnlock 'special'. Maybe it meant he was important. Probably. Fawnlock knew he was unique. And John liked him an awful lot, it was obvious. Fawnlock liked him too. Liking someone – What a new feeling. He didn't even like his brother, and he'd grown up with him.  
It wasn't until John stopped talking and looked away shyly that Fawnlock had realised he'd been thinking too much and he'd missed the last thing John had said. John moved away from him then and Fawnlock felt as if something momentous had happened and he'd missed it, and he wished he could rewind and listen to it again, even if he didn't understand a single word. He could tell by the way John was busying himself to get ready for bed that he was embarrassed, head cast down. What had he said? He didn't know. All he knew was that he was tired, it was barely 4pm, but what did they have to wake up for? They were both exhausted, what better time to sleep than now. As John got himself into bed, Fawnlock rubbed his feet on the carpet. A habit he'd picked up from John, watching him do it on the doormat before he entered the cottage. Fawnlock had thought it was a polite thing to do and hadn't quite realised you couldn't just do it anywhere. But John had barely noticed, already burrowing into his pillow. Fawnlock made for the bed, crawling onto it and getting himself comfortable in his usual spot at John's feet. He prodded and nudged at the sheets until maximum comfort was achieved, and was just about to close his eyes when one of John's feet nudged him in the thigh. With a jolt, Fawnlock raised his head towards the head of the bed. John had been so still, Fawnlock had suspected he was already asleep, but he wasn't. He was staring, arm held up in Fawnlock's direction. He motioned with his fingers, and Fawnlock cocked his head to the side. John had never done that before, what could it mean? Was he trying to tell him something, was it bad? Was he asking him to get off the bed?  
Without thinking, Fawnlock made to get up and leave when John just sighed and tutted, lunging forward to grab the Fawn before he'd made his get away. Fawnlock stilled and let himself be tugged towards the top of the bed, where John was pushing back the covers, and Fawnlock's heart was thumping again, and was he ever going to calm down? (He hoped not.)  
He climbed gingerly under the covers, happy to be back inside the bed where he spent his first night, the strong, warm smell of John filling his nose and making him grin stupidly. John must have noticed, because he let out a low chuckle before laying back down, tugging Fawnlock's arms around himself, holding his hands in place over his chest. Fawnlock hadn't noticed he was holding his breath until John coughed and it rushed out of him in shock. John stroked his hands softly, telling him to relax, to stop thinking. Now was the time for sleep.  
Fawnlock took the hint, and took advantage of John being right there infront of him. John was clearly fragile right now, who knew if he'd ever get this close again? An entirely selfish idea came into Fawnlock's brain, and he couldn't ignore it if he'd tried. John was warm against his front, warm and firm and smelling so sweet. Fawnlock snuffled gently into the back of John's neck, treading carefully and careful not to startle him, but with just enough enthusiasm to earn another small, sleepy chuckle. John's hair was still a bit damp, but underneath the lake smell there was John, stronger than ever. Nervous sweat. Fawnlock felt guilty for enjoying it as much as he did. He took so many deep breathes, he started to lose count.  
It didn't take long for John's breathing to even out, his chest rising and falling evenly underneath his and Fawnlock's hands over his chest. His heart.  
Fawnlock had never felt anything like he'd felt in this one moment, and he made a promise to himself right then, to remember everything. How warm John's thighs are against his. The light still coming through the roughly closed curtains. The dust, dancing just so in the air. Suddenly, as if overwhelmed by dust particles of all things, Fawnlock felt like he had to say something, to christen this moment, to make it permanent.  
He leaned close to Johns ear, and although he knew, knew John was asleep because he knew all the signs of a sleeping human (he wondered if they slept similarly.) he needed to say something. What was this?  
He squeezed Johns fingers gently.  
 _“Special”_


End file.
